about the Beauty
by Halcion
Summary: Brienne's innocence challenged. An under-developed pairing that has potential. First fanfic. Ever.
1. Chapter 1

She twisted her thick waist around in her saddle to see if the masked predator was still on her heels. Out of the corner of one steel blue eye she could see the horse in the distance and heard its hooves approaching. Muttering a silent prayer to the Seven, she dug her heels into her mount and galloped away. When she felt that she'd put enough distance between her and the masked rider she fell into a comfortable pace and trotted along wondering who could have been chasing her – and why. She slowed down as she neared a stream, anxious to relieve her thirst. As she dismounted she stretched her thighs and felt the strain and tension of being chased leave her muscular frame. She could not put a word to the way it felt to stretch her legs after a long, speedy ride. She slowly removed her closed helm and gazed at the reflection that stared back at her. "Brienne the Beauty," she spat between gulps of cool water. Her face was weathered but tanned and her cropped hair was messy and in need of a wash. Removing her tight gorget and heavy plate mail she began to splash the refreshing liquid on her neck and shoulders. A sigh escaped her lips as she watched how quickly the water mixed with the beads of sweat on her shoulders and neck, seeming to pool around the tops of her modest breasts.

She turned her head and tried to puff out her chest to suggest a cleavage, but to little avail. Never one to admit defeat, Brienne gruffly cupped her small teats and lifted them as high as she could. A small noise that began in the back of her throat escaped her lips from the feeling her teats in her own hands. While not gentle or smooth, Brienne's hands were a delicate change from the cumbersome plate she was accustomed to feel against her teats. Feeling bold, Brienne squeezed her nipple with her right thumb and forefinger and sank back on her hind legs. Lost in thought, she continued to roughly and clumsily caress her nipple. Licking her lips, she moved her hand down to the tops of her still armoured thighs. Never did she divert her eyes from the mirror that the stream provided.

"No matter what angle you look from, you'll never have the graceful or gentle form of a lady," a voice remarked from behind Brienne.

Frozen, Brienne rushed to cover her exposed chest with her heavy arms and giant hands. "Mother have Mercy," she prayed, admonishing herself about how quickly she'd forgotten the earlier chase. She allowed one arm to falter as she quickly rummaged for her sword.

"Who are you?" Brienne demanded, trying to make out a form from her masked predator, now dismounted.

"Now, now," tisked the voice "I can't believe my uncle sent me to hunt the likes of _you." _

"Who _are_ you?" Brienne demanded once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Laughing quietly, the masked rider casually removed the helm, shaking a mass of brown hair out. Inhaling the scent, the rider mused "Nothing quite like the smell of sweat mixed with the thrill of the chase is there _My Lady?"_

Not waiting for the stunned Brienne to answer, the rider edged closer to Brienne. "Perhaps that's why you felt the need to…" the rider's eyes quickly made haste to Brienne's inept attempt to cover her breasts. "What were you doing to your teats? From my angle it was as if you were trying to expel mother's milk!"

Brienne fumed on the inside and was certain that she was flushed a brilliant red from her forehead to stomach.

"Brienne the Beauty," the rider said slowly, slipping each word out with a hint of intentional sarcasm.

Asha would not deny the stirring in her crotch when she first rode closer and saw Brienne touching herself. "Fuck," she muttered, "The little maiden in trying to get herself off?" Half curious and half amused, Asha reined in her mount before allowing the Maid of Tarth to know that she had caught up.

While certainly not impressive in size, Brienne made up for her small breasts with their symmetry and shape, Asha noticed. Years of swordplay had rounded them in to two perfectly shaped humble buds. Still mounted, Asha shifted roughly her in saddle, enjoying the feeling it produced between her leather-clad legs.

She wasn't one to bed women. She preferred the rough and rugged types that her Ironborn men so easily fit. When Asha needed sex, she did it to relieve a craving that even she could not quell, regardless of countless efforts.

That being the case, she didn't think it likely that a woman could possibly satisfy her needs in the bedroom. Still… the sight of the masculine woman touching her breasts caused Asha to find it difficult to divert her eyes. "Fuck," she cursed again wondering how long it had been since she'd last spread her legs for a willing man.

Her uncle had bribed her with the promised of several longships if she'd bring him the head of Brienne of Tarth. Her elusive uncle would not reveal to her too much of why he wanted her dead, but it had been a long journey.

Breaking her out of her reflection, Brienne once again demanded to know the identity of the rider that had chased her.

"Someone's found their confidence?" Asha asked. "I'm Asha Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands. Asha threw her cloak at Brienne. "Cover yourself, _Maiden of Tarth."_

Flushing again, Brienne quickly covered herself with Asha's cloak and looked into Asha's eyes.

Realizing how vulnerable Brienne stood in front of her, Asha almost chuckled thinking about the ease of this kill. She'd heard that Brienne was tough. Tenacious as a man, she' heard other whisper. In King Renly's Rainbow Guard, even. She doubted that many captors had found her half undressed as Asha had, however. Not to mention what Brienne was doing as she'd been found. Still, there's no way Brienne would die without a fight.

"I'm here to kill you, Beauty." Asha remarked non-chalantly. "My uncle Euron wants you for some reason."


End file.
